


I Could Waltz On Forever

by njckle



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff without Plot, Pre-wedding fluff, Slow Dancing, Wedding Planning, lovebirds in love, newtina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-10 22:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12921735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/njckle/pseuds/njckle
Summary: A small interaction between the soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Scamander.





	I Could Waltz On Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [porcupinegoldstein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcupinegoldstein/gifts).



> I tried going for domestic fluff, but then it turned into a dance scene. Let's hope this turned out OK. Hope you all enjoy my attempt at romance.
> 
> Oh, and Happy Holidays.

It’s late into the evening when Tina feels someone step up behind her chair.

“May I have this dance?” a voice whispers in her ear and she doesn’t have to look to see the smile that goes with it.

“I’m a little busy, Newt.” And she is. Spread out in front of her are more papers than she can count, a mess of a lists and names that she has no idea what to do with; hours of work and nothing to show for it. The perfectionist in her wails at the undeniable defeat.

“You’ve been busy for most of the day, I dare say. Why don’t you take a break?” Strong hands massage her shoulders, easing the tension that’s been gathering there the past couple of hours. “You do remember what that is, don’t you? A break?”

“Ha ha. I’ll take a break when I finish everything Queenie asked me to do.”

Newt bends over her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I don’t think she meant for you to stress yourself like this, love.”

She turns to look at him then, meeting his bright eyes with her own stare. She points her wand at him accusingly. “You said you would help.”

“I did, didn’t I...” he hums, unconcerned at being held at wandpoint, and takes hold of her hands. And despite her initial reluctance, Tina doesn’t stop him from tugging her out of her chair and away from her tasks. She certainly doesn’t stop him from pulling her into his arms. Instead she leans in, breathing in the crisp and earthy smell that always seems to linger on his clothes. “What should I do?”

“Well, there’s the invites,” she says. He spells a quill to take up her previous work, writing on the invitations in looping cursive. “The flower arrangements.” The orchids float themselves into appealing arrangements. “Figuring out the seating arrangement.” The delicate cards immediately start organizing themselves.

Newt grins. “Just that? You should've been done hours ago.”

“I was planning on doing them _by hand_ , Newt.”

“This way is so much easier.”

She gives his arm a playful wack. “Aren’t you always going on about how it’s good practice to do things yourself and not rely on magic?”

“Not when it gets in the way of spending time with you.”

The words are incredibly forward, no preamble or flowery poetry that Tina’s heard from other men to their own dames. It’s a characteristic that’s solely Newt, charming in its own way that not many people find appropriate, but something she's grown overly fond of. She's already so smitten with him and, when he says sweet things like that, it's hard for her to resist.

"It looks like I’ve finished all you need to do," he says, "but I think you missed something.”

“What’s that?”

“I believe it’s custom for the bride and groom to dance and we haven’t practiced that yet.”

A lie, but Tina plays along. “I knew you had an ulterior motive,” she says.

He merely grins, guiding her hands to wrap around his shoulders; his is pressed against the small of her back, holding her so that they’re chest to chest. It’s all a little scandalous according to standard norms, but Tina doesn’t mind. Newt waves for their music to start.

The record screeches.

Tina stops it with a quick _silencio_ before it damages their hearing, but the deed is done, the moment ruined. There’s a buzz in her ear that takes a moment to fade away.

Newt huffs. “Bugger. I was sure I got it right.” He mimics the move, flicking his wand, only for the record to wobble, a weak warble coming from it. He tries again with the same pitiful result. “It worked perfectly yesterday.”

“You practiced?” Tina laughs at Newt’s put out expression, but takes pity on him. One wave of her wand and the record player starts up again, this time with no mishap. The song is one of her favorites, slow and melodic, each note easing them back into the moment. “Looks like your timing's off.”

Newt immediately plucks her wand from her hand and sets it on the tabletop alongside his, never once taking his eyes off her. In the warm light of the room, his eyes are liquid green, specks of gold dancing at the edges, and Tina feels herself being pulled in. He takes the lead and she falls in step immediately. “I’m working on it.”

“I’m sure you get it sooner or later,” she says because that’s all she can find to say. A simple three step has them slipping out of the living room and into the kitchen. Tina waves her hand so that the plates begin to settle on the table as they pass by, Newt already having the vegetables floating out and preparing themselves for dinner. “You’ve gotten better.”

“Only a little,” Newt confesses, flushing at the compliment. “Household spells are inherently easy to do with or without a wand.”

“To you maybe. I’m all wet with domestic spells.”

He chuckles, stepping back and twirling her in tune with the music before pulling her back into him. “Someone sounds grungy.”

Tina doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply, but he reads her expression well enough to know he’s right. He takes them through a small spin around the furniture and closer to the fireplace, laughing softly and, at the sound, she realizes that it’s been so long since they’ve had a quiet moment like this, just the two of them. The music record plays on faithfully, drowning out the whistling wind with its sweet symphony, and Tina lets herself get lost in the soft tempo.

Newt tucks her closer and the space between them diminishes even further. He leans in and presses what Tina thinks will be a quick kiss to her cheek, only he lingers. The rough feel of his stubble pricks her skin.

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” he whispers against her skin. “I would think a small get together would be enough.”

“You know why.”

He slides his hand from her hip to wrap round her waist, holding her gently. Tina’s come to know that Newt’s more inclined to show her his feelings rather than tell her, every action and touch, no matter how small, deliberate and with a sense of adoration. It’s something she doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of. “She’s a tyrant, your sister.”

Tina let’s out a soft laugh, tilting her head to lean her cheek against his jaw. “Sometimes. It’ll be better for the both of us if we just go along with what she wants.”

“Yes, but I have one problem with that.”

“What’s that?”

“I barely get to see my soon-to-be wife.”

Wife. Even now, after the war and dark wizards and obscurus', she still can’t believe that it’s real. She’s going to be somebody’s _wife_.

“And I miss my soon-to-be husband,” she says, loving how the words slips off her tongue. At some point, their dance devolved into simple swaying, but neither of them seem to particularly care.

Suddenly, Newt pulls away to look at her fully. He’s serious and boyish all at once.

“How about we go on an adventure then—run away until Queenie forgets all about this wedding.” He grins. “I've heard a rumor that there’s been countless magical thunderstorms in Arizona, near Tucson.”

A tempting offer if she ever heard one. There’s nothing more she wants than to shuck her responsibilities and run away, head to far off places on a mere whim, see sights that she could only dream of as a child, but the reality of the situation reminds her that that’s a wistful dream right now. She has a job and a sister to consider, a life to take charge of, and couldn't let Newt drag her away from all that before she's ready. Not yet at least.

“We could,” she acquiesces, reaching out and brushing her fingers along his mouth, lingering at the highlighted skin bisecting his upper lip. A small scar out of many, but one of her favorites. “But we can't. You know she won’t let it go that easily.”

Newt sighs, leaning into her touch. “Ah, well, a man can dream.”

“We’ll save it for the honeymoon. Let’s just get through the wedding first.”

“Speaking of…” He tilts her chin up. “There’s one last thing to practice, I think.”

He kisses her, simple as water.

It’s passionate, but tender, everything Tina wants in the moment and more. The world melts away, the slide of his lips more alluring than anything it had to offer, and Tina lets herself be swept along with the moment. It has been too long, she realizes.

Euphoric warmth blossoms from where he touches her, spreading out to the rest of her and, with her front pressed against his and the fireplace at her back, she’s never felt warmer. She runs her hands through the ridiculous bird’s nest he calls hair before folding her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer. Newt’s laugh gets lost somewhere between them, whether from her want or something else, Tina doesn’t know or particularly care at the moment. She kisses him all the harder.

She’s more than willing to stay like this forever, in his arms, feeling the beat of his heart through his pulse, but they have things to do. A wedding to plan.

As if reading her mind, Newt delves into smaller, chaste kisses, ending with a soft peck to the corner of her mouth. He rest his forehead against hers, their noses brushing against each other, and Tina’s wants more than anything for time to stop so she can note every single detail, from the curl of his bangs at his brow to the texture of his wrinkled shirt. She wants to remember moments like this, keep it close to her heart, little and beautiful and filled with love.

Newt’s smile makes his eyes crinkle adorably. “How was that?”

“Perfect.” Tina sighs, completely and utterly happy. “Timing and all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Give me the kiss I deserve, JKR. Give it to me.


End file.
